


Sherlock And The Blood Stained Cloth

by Elemental_sorceress1



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death, Established Relationship, Hurt, Lung Cancer, M/M, Sad Ending, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 16:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elemental_sorceress1/pseuds/Elemental_sorceress1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a Christmas gift for my friend/beta. It's based off a prompt she gave me. Her original prompt was, </p><p>"It takes place years later, long after John and Sherlock stop being consulting detectives. Sherlock is either in the hospital because he is terminally ill or he has already died. John reflects on his fondness for Sherlock and what might have been had Sherock been different". It kind of changed from that however while I was writing it. She stilled really enjoyed it and I hope you do as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock And The Blood Stained Cloth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eyeless_soul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeless_soul/gifts).



At first it was little things, easy to ignore, pass off as something else, explain away. The cough, they just figured it lingered after a cold Sherlock had had recently, than the dry air from the winter season. The shortness of breath, the way Sherlock would become winded with any activity, well Sherlock wasn't as young as he once was, he was just getting older and couldn't run all over London like he used to. The pain in his shoulder, they thought was just lingering pain after landing on it the wrong way during a case. The fatigue, again he was getting older, it wasn't unusual for older people to sleep more, and it was probably just his body catching up on the years of missed sleep. John explained all of them away, didn't think any thing of them, even if he should have.

When Sherlock coughed up blood one day, he wiped it off his hand and didn't mention it to John, not wanting to worry him, he'd tell him later. Later didn't come, Sherlock had completely forgotten about the blood with the new case that came in. The next time it happened John was looking right at him, rubbing his back as he waited for the coughing fit to end, when Sherlock pulled the cloth handkerchief away from his mouth, and John saw the few drops of blood there, and the bit on the side of Sherlock's mouth, he predictably panicked. He forced Sherlock into his coat, ignoring Sherlock's assurances that he was fine.

"People that are perfectly fine don't cough up blood Sherlock!" John shouted, wrapping his own scarf around his neck as Sherlock did the same before dragging him out of 221B Backer street and to the hospital. 

The diagnoses, comes like a punch to the gut to John. He went through every possible thing it could be in his head while he waited, using the symptoms Sherlock had as a guideline, and he had come to the same conclusion. Sherlock is diagnosed with lung cancer at eight twenty six at night on the 17th, a Tuesday in November. They're sent home and told to come back the next day to talk to another doctor. All the way home, John went back through the coughing, shortness of breath, fatigue, and aching shoulder and wondered how he had allowed himself to ignore them, when he should have put them together before Sherlock began coughing up blood.

The next day, the news just gets worse, a diagnoses of lung cancer was bad enough. The doctor tells them it's stage 4, inoperable, and terminal. Sherlock is given a few months to a year to live, but with chemo, while it won't save his life, will give him another year or two. The doctor asks if they understand, and Sherlock proceeds to inform him that it is a stupid question, the doctor ignores him, and asks John. John understands all to well, though he wishes he didn't. Cancer is a slow painful killer, and chemo will make that time even worse. He asks them if they want to go the rought of chemo, and when neither answers, he gives them a number and tells them to call when they come to a decision.

In the end they decide not to try chemo, and it's Sherlock who makes the decision, and ends up comforting John who can't keep himself from crying anymore. Sherlock holds him, lips pressed into John's hair as the older man cried into his chest.

XXX

Mycroft is the first one they tell, because they both know if he finds out Sherlock had been to the hospital and the didn't tell him why, he would find out himself and make their lives miserable for not telling him about the lung cancer. Mycroft doesn't seem all that effected, but then John didn't expect him to, but he surprises John by telling them he will take care of any expenses, which is nice, and means John won't be left with a huge amount of debt to pay once Sherlock was gone.

Lastrade is next, because they have to retire from being consulting detectives, even if Sherlock throws a fit about that. They are too old for it anyway, and John points that out to Sherlock, who pretty much pouts for the rest of the day. Donovan and Anderson, find out from Lastrade, because John definitely wasn't going to tell them.

Mrs. Hudson has already passed away, so they didn't have to worry about telling her. She died a few years before of old age. Mycroft had bought the flat from her when she had been retiring, and had let her live out the rest of her life there comfortably.

XXX

About a week after the diagnoses, Sherlock visited Mycroft, late at night after John was already in bed, much to the surprise of the older Holmes.

"Sherlock, is there something you need?" Mycroft asked, allowing his younger brother to enter the house.

"I need you to promise me that you will look after John when I'm gone. I do not think he will do well without me" Sherlock said, standing in the hall of the house.

"Dr Watson is a strong man" Mycroft told him.

"John has been left alone many times in his life, he has taken the news of my imminent death very hard. Promise me that you will look after him" Sherlock said. Mycroft could not place the look in his brothers eyes, but whatever it was, it made him promise to look after John. Mycroft knew that Sherlock needed John, but perhaps John needed Sherlock as well.

XXX

As time passed Sherlock got weaker and weaker,his lungs got worse as did the blood he continued to cough up. And eventually it got to the point Sherlock was unable to stand on his own for long periods of time due to his bodies weakness. At first, Sherlock almost seemed perfectly healthy for an average person, except for the coughing up blood thing of course, and sometimes John could almost pretend like Sherlock wasn't dying, of course reality always came crashing back down on him like a ton of bricks. Now, there was no pretending that everything would be alright, not with Sherlock's weakness and the way he continued to grow paler. And the time came when Sherlock had to be hospitalized when caring for him on his own was no longer an option for John.

The hospitalization didn't go so well however, when Sherlock wouldn't stop deducing his nurses, doctors, roommates, and anyone who came into his room out of boredom. He had sent one young nurse out of the room in tears after telling her that her fears that her husband was having an affair were true.

Eventually they had to get Sherlock home care, because after several warnings to both John and Mycroft, the nurses refused to care for Sherlock for his insulting comments. John had sighed and lectured Sherlock once again on manners and his lack of them. Mycroft simply sighed and let John handle Sherlock while he called Anthea to get started on what they would need to provide home care for Sherlock.

In a short time they had everything set up for Sherlock at 221B Baker street, including a live in nurse who would take care of him, and a private doctor on call at all hours. Sherlock had made quick work of deducing both of them, the nurse simply took all of his comments in stride, never letting the insults upset her, and the doctor ignored him.

XXX

"Hello Dr. Watson" the young nurse Olivia greeted John one morning as he came out of his room, the room he had shared with Sherlock for years was once again simply Sherlock's, due to the fact that John didn't want to get in the way of any of the medical equipment set up in the room.

"Hello Olivia. Is he up?" John asked.

"Yes, I was just going to get him a book to read. There's tea on the stove if you'd like a cup" Olivia answered, heading into the living room.

"Thank you. Has he eaten?" John asked.

"Toast, he refused to eat anything else, I tried" she replied.

"I'm just going to go see him for a little bit" John said, Olivia only nodded, she knew very well what the relationship between the two men was.

"Sherlock?" John asked, looking into the room. Sherlock looked at him from where he layed on the bed and smiled at him.

"John" Sherlock greeted, watching as John sat in the chair by the bed.

"Olivia said you only ate toast, you have to eat Sherlock, you know that" John told him.

"I was not very hungry" Sherlock replied, John sighed.

"Will you eat something besides toast for lunch?" John asked.

"I will try" Sherlock promised.

"That's all I ask" John told him, gently taking a hold of Sherlock's hand. Seconds later Sherlock began coughing, and John helped him sit up, face buried in Sherlock's curls, not wanting to see the blood he would inevitably cough up.

"Thank you" Sherlock said, breathing deeply as John helped him lay back down.

"Your welcome" John said, wiping at the few drops of blood on the edge of Sherlock's mouth with the already blood stained piece of cloth.

John stayed by Sherlock's bedside, even after the dark haired man had fallen asleep, the pain killers always made him drowsy, he would sleep for a few hours before waking up. He'd be alright for a minute before the pain returned, then he'd be given another dose, and be up for a bit before falling asleep again. It was always the same these days, but John knew he would miss even these times once Sherlock was gone.

A long time ago, someone asked John what he loved about Sherlock, John hadn't known how to answer at the time, hadn't known what to say to them. He loved so many things about Sherlock, even if at time the man drove him mad.

XXX

He loved Sherlock's dark curly hair. He remembered the first time he had run his fingers through Sherlock's dark curls, when Sherlock had kissed him for the first time, after Sherlock had come back from the dead. When his brain had started functioning again, Sherlock had already pulled away but John had quickly grabbed a hold of the lapels of his coat and pulled him into another kiss. Sherlock had settled his hands onto the small of John's back and John had stood on his tip toes hands tangled in the dark locks, gently moving his fingers to see how they felt. Sherlock's hair felt like silk through his fingers, and John loved it, he had since that very first time he had finally been allowed to touch.

XXX

He loved Sherlock's eyes, the beautiful blue green and gray eyes, they always seemed to be changing colors, he never knew just what color Sherlock's eyes were, but they were beautiful, so beautiful. He remembered the first time Sherlock had asked to explore his body, the way his eyes had looked dark green with lust, it had been gorgeous. They always seemed to change whenever Sherlock looked at him. And he'd missed just looking at him and watching as his eyes seemed to shift color.

XXX

He loved Sherlock's brain, the man was brilliant, and he very well knew it. Sometimes Sherlock forgot the things he deemed unimportant, but he was brilliant none the less. He was frustrating, sometimes he was just plain insulting, but he was a genius. 

XXX

He loved when Sherlock surprised him, though that didn't happen often. Sherlock usually surprised him when Sherlock had done something to make him mad. Like when Sherlock had put a brain in their room without John knowing, and Sherlock had actually made him tea , well he had put water for tea on, John counted it though.

XXX

John was pulled from his thoughts when Sherlock woke up. Sherlock blinked at him for a few seconds before greeting him. John smiled at him and left to let Olivia know that he was awake, it was time for Sherlock's lunch anyway. John managed to get Sherlock to eat to eat a few bites of sausage instead of just toast, Sherlock never had been a big eater, and it was worse now with the cancer.

XXX

John came home from the store one day to find Mycroft sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea and watching as Sherlock sat by the window, huddled in a blanket and staring outside at the rainy dreary afternoon. 

"Sherlock are you okay?" John asked, placing the bags on the kitchen table and walking over to kneel by Sherlock's chair.

"I am perfectly alright. I simply wanted to watch the rain" Sherlock replied.

"Are you alright to be out of bed?" John asked concerned.

"He'll be fine. I think he'll benefit from being out of that room for a while" Olivia answered coming into the living room with Sherlock's blue robe folded over one arm. "Would you mind helping me get this on him? He's a bit wobbly today" she asked and John nodded, peeling the blanket from Sherlock's shoulders, and helping him stand from the chair, taking his weight off of his wobbly knees, Sherlock had days like this sometimes when he was weak and could barley stand on his own for even a few seconds.

"There you go" Olivia smiled, as John guided Sherlock back into the chair wrapping the blanket back around his shoulders, and pressing a kiss into Sherlock's shoulders before heading back into the kitchen to put the groceries away. Mycroft nodded at him, and John returned it, he had seen a lot more of Mycroft around the flat since Sherlock had gotten ill, he supposed it was Mycroft's way of trying to support his brother.

XXX

"He wants you" Olivia told him later that night, peeking her brown haired head into the living room where John was staring at the blinking cursor on his laptop, trying to think of something to write for his blog, he hadn't since Sherlock had been diagnosed. He hadn't had this problem since he had met Sherlock, he had filled the blog with all of their adventures. Even when he had believed Sherlock was dead he had written down things that in his own opinion proved Sherlock was not a fraud, things he remembered Sherlock doing or saying, sometimes he even wrote about the dreams he had of Sherlock, and that was when he realized that he had fallen for Sherlock, but it hadn't mattered because Sherlock was gone at the time. Now though Sherlock wasn't gone, he was laying upstairs in a bed that they had shared, where they had made love so many times, now he was dying, and not in the way he ever thought Sherlock would. Sherlock wasn't going out with a bang, instead his body was slowly withering away to nothing, he was dying in an agonizing, slow painful death and John could do nothing. John shook his head and stood up, heading upstairs to see Sherlock before he was given his last dose of pain killers for the day.

"Sherlock?" John asked, entering the room.

"I had wanted to raise bees John" Sherlock told him, staring up at the ceiling of the room.

"I remember, I would have done it to, if that was what you wanted" John said, not understanding where Sherlock was going but willing to listen.

"When I faked my death I read your blog, I never told you that. You said once that you didn't know what you were going to do now that I was gone. You said you'd probably just live out the rest of your life in an existence I would have found incredibly dull. You said that I took you on all of these amazing adventures, and that you were going to miss it" Sherlock said and John nodded, he remembered writing that.

"If I say that you were my greatest adventure it would be cliche, but that does not mean that it was not true. I had to learn how to be in a relationship, I had to learn what you wanted, what you expected in our relationship. I did things for you that I had never thought of doing, things I would never do for anyone else" Sherlock told him and John smiled.

"I know that you made sacrifices for me, and I can never tell you just how much it meant to me that you did" John said.

"I never told you enough, but I love you" Sherlock told him.

"I know, I love you too" John said. Before Sherlock could say anything else Olivia interrupted them.

"Sorry, but it's time for his dose, you delayed it long enough. The pain will start soon" Olivia said walking closer to Sherlock to give him the medicine.

"I'll see you tomorrow okay?" John said standing up, Sherlock nodded and watched as John left.

XXX

After that night, Sherlock and John had nightly conversations, John would tell Sherlock about anything and Everything he thought of. And Sherlock would tell John things he hadn't before, or would bring up the past, the things he remembered of the years he and John had spent together. 

"John?" Sherlock asked, one night, Olivia had just given him the last dose of the day and John was going to go to his own bed for the night.

"What is it Sherlock?" John asked.

"Will you sleep in here with me? Just for tonight" Sherlock asked.

"I don't want to get in the way of anything Sherlock" John replied, shaking his head.

"Just for tonight, you won't get in the way of anything" Sherlock said again and John sighed.

"Just for tonight. I'll be right back, I just have to go change" John told him kissing his head before leaving.

When John returned he gently slid into the bed beside Sherlock, carefully arranging Sherlock in his arms. It'd be nice to hold Sherlock one last time, to wake up next to him again, even if he knew that he'd never get to do it again.

XXX

When John woke up the next morning, he smiled, closing his eyes for a few more seconds as he enjoyed waking up beside Sherlock again.

"Morning Sherlock" John said lifting his head with a smile. The smile faded however a second later, Sherlock didn't say anything, didn't move, didn't do anything. Sherlock's eyes were closed, cheek resting against the pillow, he looked like he was sleeping, and for a second John wanted to believe that he was just sleeping. The illusion was broken though by the fact that Sherlock wasn't breathing, his chest wasn't rising and falling gently as he slept. The pale skin John loved was even paler then it had ever been before.

"Sherlock" John said, laying his ear over Sherlock's heart, desperately hoping to find a beat that wasn't there. "No, no, Sherlock come on, don't do this to me Sherlock please open your eyes. Sherlock" John said, tears beginning to fall from his eyes as he hugged Sherlock's body closer to him, saying no over and over again like it was a mantra.

When Olivia came in a few seconds later to start her day she Found John crying into the chest of his lover and she knew what had happened. Knew without a doubt that Sherlock Holmes was dead, but she still rushed over to check. Sherlock's skin was already cold, he had died sometime during the night probably. Tears gathered in Olivia's eyes as well as she left to call Sherlock's brother and tell him what had happened.

XXX

Sherlock died in his sleep at 221B baker street on Saturday July 23rd, eight months after he was diagnosed with lung cancer. It was a rare sunny day in Lodon, though for those who cared for Sherlock Holmes the weather did not much their moods.

Sherlock was buried three days later in a small funeral, on a rainy day. John spent the entire time crying, Olivia sitting next to him and quietly rubbing his back. Even Mycroft cried for his brother, though it was done when no one could see him and he was alone. His death was in the newspaper and John received letters of condolences from fans for days after.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know much about Lung cancer, and was unable to get all that I needed from my research, despite all of the websites I visited. My friend who knew somebody who died from Lung cancer corrected me on the things that were wrong, however it was too late to change it at that time so I have to leave everything. Just know that I know I am wrong, and please refrain from pointing it out, I'm well aware. All spelling was corrected by me on the internet, I apologise for any mistakes.


End file.
